


Come Away, Come Away

by Shotgunpicksthemusic



Category: Peter Pan - J. M. Barrie, Supernatural
Genre: AU, Bonding, Canon Compliant Violence, DCBB 2015, M/M, Sexual Situations, crossover with Peter Pan, dean cas big bang, handjobs, mind/thought sex, some blood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-16
Updated: 2015-10-16
Packaged: 2018-04-26 16:46:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,750
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5012251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shotgunpicksthemusic/pseuds/Shotgunpicksthemusic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A fairy never says no to a Pan, but Castiel has never quite followed the rules.  When a Pan comes calling for him, he flees and finds refuge in the Impala.  When he realizes children are in danger because of his actions, he works with Dean and Sam to stop the Pan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first dcbb, and I'm terrified. But I did it, so, I'm kinda proud of that. The idea of the Pan being a dark spirit was inspired by The Thrilling Adventure Hour podcast, specifically Beyond Belief.  My Pan doesn’t eat hands, though.  I don’t own anything but my imagination, sadly.
> 
> Thank you to [the-dangerous-ginger](http://the-dangerous-ginger.tumblr.com/) for the beta work! You are awesome! 
> 
> Thank you to [thearronaut](http://thearronaut.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous art that goes with my poor story!
> 
> Thank you to [nikistiel](http://nikistiel.tumblr.com/), [wevyrdove](http://wevyrdove.tumblr.com/) for cheerleading and hand holding. You rock!
> 
> And thank you to [ruinedhands](http://ruinedhands.tumblr.com/) for the gorgeous graphic promoing my fic! Seriously, go commission from them :D

He wasn't fast enough. Try as he might, he just wasn't flying fast enough. Castiel spared a moment to glance behind him and through the blur of his wings, he could just make out the inky shadow that steadily gained on him. He turned his head, arms pressed to his side, tucked his chin down and, though it didn't seem possible, he pushed his speed further. Tree limbs whipped past him, their leaves slapping his body, stinging and abrasive. The wind picked up and now he was fighting a headwind, one that stole the very breath from his lungs. A strong gust hit him from the side, knocking him off course and he tumbled, his pulse racing and his arms and legs flailing as he beat his wings frantically, trying to regain stability.

His chest ached and he could barely breathe. He darted out of the forest he'd been flying in, crossing over a dark, damp road, out into the open. This was no good; panic welled up inside as he realized he was running out of time, of energy, and where could he hide? Up there, just ahead, big and black, with a place to duck into. With a final burst of desperate speed, he slammed into the large object, hissing at the burn of cold metal on his hands. There was some sort of barrier, clear and transparent and he shoved with his magic, pushing at it until it gave way, giving him an opening. Scrambling inside, he dove for the floor, under some kind of shelf, pressing himself as far back as he could, tucking his body and drawing his wings close. He made himself as small as possible and waited, gasping and trembling.

The entire object shook when the shadow hit it, metal groaning with the impact. Castiel held his breath, the metal creaked and the barrier in the back rattled; although the shadow pushed against the sides, for some reason it could not enter, not even through the opening he had come through. Still, it did not give up, wailing as it took out its frustration on the sides of Castiel's sanctuary. Loud thunder shook the sky, sharp bursts of lightning flared, and Castiel knew the shadow was truly furious, for it had called a storm into being, maybe in the hopes of driving him from his hiding place. The wind rattled all around and then heavy drops of rain began to fall, making an almost soothing sound on the roof of this strange cave. Despite the cold fear that gripped him, Castiel could not fight the exhaustion that stole consciousness away. He drifted off to the sound of the shadow beating futilely on his hiding place.

~~*~~

"I'm just saying, this was a waste of time."

"I know, Dean," Sam said, rolling his eyes. He huffed in irritation and tossed his duffel into the trunk next to Dean's. "You've only said that, what, ten times?"

"Two, max," Dean retorted.

He frowned as he rounded Baby's side. She was coated in dirt and tree branches, and was that a dent? His eyes went wide and he rushed forward, running a hand down her side. She wasn't dented, thankfully, but she was filthy and the window was cracked.

"Sam! You left the window down?"

"No, I didn't!" Sam glared right back at Dean, irritated at the accusation in his brother's voice.

"Someone did, and I know it wasn't me." Dean opened the car door and ran his hand along the seat. It was damp and was coated in the same dirt and leaves as the outside of the car. "Did you hear a storm last night?"

"I heard some rain, a bit of wind and thunder." Sam opened his door and slid into his seat.

Dean flashed him a dark look and went to the trunk, pulling a towel out and, after brushing the dirt off, placed it on the seat. Gingerly, he sat down, but the towel adequately protected his rear from the damp. He slid the key home and started Baby up.

"We're hitting a car wash on the way and you're helping," he said, pointing a finger at Sam.

"I didn't leave the window open, Dean," Sam protested, but Dean cut him off by turning the music up to ear shattering levels. With a sigh, Sam leaned back against his seat, pulling out his phone to check on the specifics of their next case.

It was late at night when they finally stopped for the day. They had, as Dean promised, made a pit stop to clean the car off, but the rest of the time was on the road. They'd spun their wheels, metaphorically, in the small town of Adventure (a missing persons case that turned out to be a group of kids running away together), and while the break was not completely bad in that they'd had some rest, Dean was eager to get out there on a real case. Sam thought he'd found one in the next state over, so off they'd gone.

Now it was past midnight, they'd just hit the Tennessee state line, and were headed deeper into rural territory. It was a good time to pull over, so Dean did just that. The blinking, garish neon sign of the Alpine Motel sputtered in the night, the 'vacancy' sign the only part that wasn't weakly lit.

Dean smoothly parked Baby in front of the manager's office, glancing over at Sam, who was snoring softly beside him. He smiled gently at his brother and slid out of the car, quiet so he didn't wake Sam, and went inside. A short conversation and a fake credit card later, he came out with a key ring for a double room.

It didn't take long to get settled after that. He parked in front of their room and got Sam up and into a bed before collapsing on his own. Sleepily, he briefly considered bringing their stuff in, but he was exhausted and he willingly succumbed to sleep.

Bright sunlight against his eyelids drove sleep away, and Dean stretched, making a soft sound of contentment. He'd slept well, better than he had in a long time, and although he wondered why his usual cocktail of nightmares hadn't visited him, he wasn't complaining. Blinking, he sat up and yawned, stretching his arms up and relishing the euphoric feeling that washed over him. He licked his lips, reaching up to rub his eyes with his hand and stood, looking around the room, fighting another yawn.

The shower was running, so he guessed that's where Sam was. Their gear was on the table and Dean huffed a laugh. Sam must have brought it in, trying to make up for leaving the window open. He was like that, do something to upset Dean, then make up for it by doing things for Dean, little ways of taking care of him. Whatever, he shrugged, if it made Sam feel better, he wouldn't fuss about it. He headed for the door, snagging his keys. He'd go get breakfast, and then they could talk about the case.

When he walked back in the door, Sam was sitting at the table, laptop open, hair still wet from his shower. Dean grinned at his brother, setting the coffee and food in front of him. He pulled out fresh clothes and went to take his shower.

He came out, feeling a million times better for being clean, rubbing his hair with a towel before throwing the damp thing on Sam's bed.

"Really?" Sam said, bitchface game strong. He pointedly looked at the offending towel before glaring at his brother.

Dean shrugged and pulled the lid off his coffee, taking a healthy swig. "Find anything?"

"Yeah, a couple of exsanguinated corpses. It looks like it could be a small nest. It should be fairly easy to clean out."

"How long to get there?" Dean asked. He pulled his breakfast toward him, steak, eggs, and greasy fried potatoes, and grinned when Sam made a face at it. "Beats your yogurt," he said, shoving a large forkful in his mouth.

"It won't be a vamp that takes you down, Dean, it'll be that junk you eat," Sam retorted. It was an old argument, a familiar banter between them.

"How far until we get there?" Dean repeated, taking another obscenely large bite.

"The town's just a few hours away, if we drive straight there. I already called the sheriff and set up a meeting, so he’s expecting us."

"Finish breakfast, then we'll get a move on."

Sam nodded and concentrated on eating. They cleaned up, picked up the few things they had out, and left the room. It took next to no time to pack the car; they'd turned living on the run into an art form. Dean turned in the key and they were off, driving down the road.

This was how he loved it best, Dean thought, glancing at Sam, who was glaring at his phone, brow furrowed and ridiculous hair blowing in the breeze. He was cruising down the highway, Baby purring, his brother beside him, music blaring on the radio, and on his way to hunt something, to make a town safer. He knew Sam didn't always get it, having had his period of rebellion a few years back. Sam looked at it like a job and, while he obviously cared about the people they protected, he didn't seem to see it as the calling that Dean did. Every once in a while, he'd panic Dean by making noises about getting out of the life, settling down, but then a case would come up and it'd be back to the usual.

In no time at all, they reached their destination, a tiny hole in the wall called Black River. There was only one hotel, a small motor inn on the very outskirts of what was generously called a town, a one lane, everyone knows everyone and we don’t like strangers hamlet. The room was as nondescript as any, two creaky, hard beds, a tiny TV, a cramped kitchenette with a round table and two very uncomfortable chairs. At least there was a fridge.

They settled fairly quickly and, as the day was young, wasted no time in pulling on their suits and heading out the door, wanting to get the meeting with the sheriff over as soon as possible.

The drive to the sheriff’s office was short; everything important in this town was on the same main road. Dean parked Baby in the parking lot and they sauntered inside, putting on their best FBI air. The desk clerk was wary but polite and rang the chief, watching them like a hawk as they were ushered into the small office.

It was no surprise that the wall was decorated with trophy animals--a rather large trout, a deer head with impressive antlers, to name a few. There were hunting pictures and baseball photos and posters of trucks aplenty, and Dean had the urge to laugh at just how stereotypical it seemed. He must have been staring off a bit, because Sam gave him a hard nudge, and he quickly refocused.

“Don’t know why the feds need to be involved,” the sheriff drawled, leaning back in his chair and narrowing his eyes at the two men. He crossed his hands over his stomach, his eyebrow lifted, mouth a straight line.

Dean smiled reassuringly, leaning slightly forward.

“We had a set of similar murders in Arkansas,” he explained, keeping his tone friendly. “We thought you and your men might be able to help us determine if these two cases are connected. After all, fresh eyes are always welcome, and we know that men like you and your officers often find pieces to the puzzle that guys like us miss.”

“We don’t intend to get in your way, Sheriff Fuller,” Sam added glancing at Dean. Well, maybe he _was_ laying it on a bit thick, but if it worked, who cared?

“Huh. Well, I guess it can’t hurt to let you look into things. But no running off and doing anything without my say so, get it? Folks around here ain’t liable to look too kindly on you out of towners.”

“Yes, sir,” Dean said, nodding.

He waited until they were leaving to roll his eyes and tug at his necktie. He knew why they had to wear these damn things but they were so freaking uncomfortable. He liked it better when they could dress normally, jeans and flannels.

The rest was routine, which in itself was a call for caution. It was dangerous to assume that simply because all things pointed a certain way and created a pattern, that it would be an easy hunt. Too many hunters fell prey to complacency; Dean didn't intend to be one of them.

The day passed as expected. Question the coroner, examine the body, ask around. No, no one saw anything. Yes, people went missing from time to time, it was a small town, kids took off all the time. Yes, it was the first time they’d found a body like this, no, they had no clues as to who it was and wasn’t it strange that the blood was all gone and what animal would do that? Yes, they promised to call if they had any more information.

“I think it’s pretty clear we’re dealing with vamps,” Dean said, shouldering the door to their hotel room open and putting the bags of fast food on the table. "I'd still like to check out that wooded area, first, though."

"The one behind the new subdivision?" Sam sat in his chair and stretched, sighing when his back cracked.

"Yeah. If the coroner is correct about those leaves on the bodies, it’s a good bet that the vamps are hunkered down somewhere in those woods."

Dean pulled out his hamburger and took a large bite, closing his eyes, relishing the sweet and tangy barbecue sauce and the bite of the onion. This town may be backwater, but damn did they put together a good burger.

"Makes sense," Sam said, flipping his laptop open.

He frowned when the screen came to life and it was not on the site he had left it on, but rather on vine, with one of the videos loaded up and playing on a loop. He watched, snorting softly, as the kitten on the screen fell asleep, its head sinking lower and lower until it fell over in a heap. It was cute, but so unlike his brother that he wondered what was going on. He peered over the top of his computer to stare at Dean, who gave him a puzzled look.

"When did you get into cat videos?"

"What the hell, Sam?" Dean stood up, having finished his burger. and grabbed his soda. "I'm not responsible for whatever weird stuff is on your stupid computer."

Sam watched him walk away and sit on the bed, starting up the TV. He blew out a harsh breath, irritated that he had obviously used his computer, but grateful that at least it wasn't porn. He cleared the window and began to research the tract of land they'd investigate tomorrow, wondering, not for the first time, if he should password lock his computer. A loud burst of laughter caused him to look up and he smiled softly at the sight of his brother, enjoying his show. No, he'd leave the computer unlocked, as always.

~~*~~

The next morning brought bright skies and and stifling, humid air. The two men dressed quickly, keeping in mind they’d be tramping through forest and undergrowth. Sam had been very fruitful with the research and Dean had even taken a turn, and what they found only convinced Dean further that this was a nest of vamps. The bodies had been found drained of blood, with their necks torn open. The victims were outsiders, most likely homeless or transient, or possibly sex workers. They were favorite targets of predators, human and nonhuman, since most people cared little about their welfare. There'd been no alarm raised among the locals, no sudden appearance of a group of strangers, so, since all the residents were accounted for (none missing or acting weirdly, they'd asked), the most logical explanation was that the vampires were outsiders as well, and were holing up somewhere close to town, but off the radar.

Dean checked Baby's trunk, and after a quick inventory, realized that they'd have to stop for more dead man's blood. The machetes were well sharpened and they had plenty of bullets that wouldn't hurt the vampires, but would slow them down. He searched the truck, looking for his favorite dagger, but it wasn't there, or in his pocket where he'd last stashed it.

"We're not hunting them today, are we?" Sam asked, coming out of the room and pulling the door shut behind him.

"No, but it doesn't hurt to be prepared. Hey, Sam, have you seen my knife?" Dean moved things around in the trunk, but it wasn't there.

"I haven’t seen it. Did you leave it in the room?"

"It was in my bag when we got here, but I carried it yesterday. It should have been in my jacket, but it's not there."

"Maybe it fell out? We can look when we get back, or you can go look now."

“Yeah, it must have fallen out. Give me a few moments."

Dean went back inside the room, searching near the end of the bed where he’d tossed his jacket the night before. The last thing they needed was for a maid to find something like the knife and freak out on them. Although he and Sam could laugh about it now, he really didn’t want to repeat that experience.

After a few moments of looking, lifting the bedspread, patting his hand on the carpet under the bed, he felt the cool wood handle of his knife and pulled it out, turning it over in his hand. The soft light of the room sparkled on the handle and he frowned. When the hell had they encountered glitter, and how did it get on his freaking knife?

Sam. It was the only explanation, but Dean wasn't completely sure what Sam’s intention was. He couldn’t want to get into a prank war, could he? They hadn’t had one in a long time, and they never ended well. Shrugging, he wiped it off, slipping it into his pocket and heading out the door. He opened the driver's side door, sliding into his seat.

"Find it?" Sam asked, and he nodded, deciding not to mention the glitter. He figured he'd let it go, not escalate, at least not today. There was no good reason to start a fight about it now.

It wasn't a very long ride to the wooded area, and they noted the location of the mortuary, intending on making a stop later that night. Leaving Baby on the side of the road, the two men walked into the woods.

It was dense, but not so dense that they couldn’t move through it relatively easy. Squirrels chittered in the branches above them, birds called overhead, either irritated at the two large mammals invading their territory or wanting that hot bird love, and there were game trails here and there, small ones, though. These woods were public park grounds, accessible to the locals, but no camping or hunting was allowed. They bordered farmland; the stark divide between wild woods and cultivated land was punctuated by a simple barbed wire and wood fence.

“Is the area patrolled?” Dean swatted at a bug that seemed intent on making him dinner and grimaced at the smear on his hand. Glancing at his brother, he clapped him on the back, wiping his hand off in the process.

“Not regularly,” Sam said, giving him a suspicious look. “Unless there’s a complaint, they tend to monitor the walking and hiking paths. From what I understand, they do go through once or twice a quarter, but they trust on the public to tell them if someone’s here illegally.”

They pushed deeper into the woods, turning off the worn paths, looking for evidence of squatting.

“Well, that’s a pretty stupid way to handle it.” Dean wiped at his face with his sleeve. It was warm, and he was tired, and he wanted a beer. He glanced at Sam, wondering how he’d take the suggestion to give this up and approach from another angle.

“They don’t have the manpower, Dean,” Sam explained. “Park services aren’t high on the list of necessary expenditures. The rangers do what they can, but people just don’t want to pay for patrols.”

He stopped suddenly, tugging on Dean’s arm. Dean froze, looking around for what had caught his eye. Sam gestured, and he saw it, then, the broken and bruised brush that indicated someone had shoved through the vegetation, and recently. They followed the path left by the mystery person; either they thought that no one would follow them, or they didn’t understand how to move through the woods without leaving big honking clues behind them.

Dean and Sam did understand, thanks to Bobby (gently, of course) beating woodcraft into their heads, so they were silent and careful as they moved, creeping up on a small, cleared area. Ragged and stained tents were in a crowded semi circle. There was a tiny fire pit with a camping stove next to it. A stream burbled musically just on the other side of the makeshift camp. A line of clothes flapped in the gentle breeze, strung up between two evergreen trunks.

It was quiet at the moment, still in the early afternoon light. Silver and red beer cans caught the light, glittering next to scattered brown bottles. Trash littered the area; food wrappers and fast food cups were tossed carelessly on the ground. Maybe they were feeding their victims for a few days before killing them? Most vamps did and it would account for the discarded food wrappers. An unpleasant smell wafted on the breeze and Dean coughed lightly, remembering that vampires did indeed have to pee and apparently they were doing it right next to where they slept, which was gross as hell.

Dean motioned to Sam for them to walk around, and they crept quietly to the first tent, listening just outside. There was slight movement on the other side of the filthy fabric, just enough to tell that someone or something slumbered inside. Sam walked to the next tent, and Dean checked the third; each one had at least two vamps in it, some three, with seven tents in total. With a motion of his hand, Dean indicated that Sam should follow him and they retraced their steps, leaving the camp behind. Although the vamps were asleep and it was daytime, they were still dangerous, and the brothers weren't prepared for a confrontation.

They were silent on the walk back, each turning over in their mind the best way to deal with the situation.

“How are we going to do this?” Sam asked. He swung the Impala’s door open and settled on his seat, glancing at Dean.

“We have a few options.” Dean started the car up and drove down the road, headed back to the motel. “We can wait until they attack someone else, which is not really an option. We have no idea who they’ll attack, and I doubt it’d be soon because they just ate. We could go back tonight?”

“Hit the mortuary and then the nest?” Sam settled back in his seat, considering. “We need to wait until it’s pretty late in the night. The sheriff is putting out extra patrols. Shift change is just after midnight, so we’d have a better chance of avoiding the officers if we wait until then.”

“Yeah, not looking forward to explaining why we’re roaming the woods, after dark, with dead man’s blood and machetes.”

“So, we go back, get some food, and then wait until later.”

Dean nodded. Attacking in the dead of the night was risky--the vampires had better senses--but they wouldn’t be expecting it, and Sam and Dean wanted this dealt with.

Once back at the motel, Dean ordered takeout. He sat on the edge of his bed and turned on the TV, figuring they had a couple of hours to waste, so why not? He frowned when he realized that the station was on some nature channel, not the one he'd left it on. Glancing at Sam, who's face was lit up by the computer screen, kinda blue and glowy, he shook his head. No sense saying anything to him, Sam would just deny it and then tease Dean about the crap shows he liked. But, who could blame him? With his life, watching cheap dramas was a release, a fun, guilty pleasure that Dean wasn't going to give up anytime soon. Let Sam have his animal shows. He'd pick Dr. Sexy over a rat with wings any day. What better way to waste a few hours than the mindless junk of a soap opera?

When midnight finally arrived, they left their room, armed to the teeth. Once at the mortuary, it was easy to break in, and soon they had jars of the blood. They were silent on the drive to the nest. This was a familiar dance for them, one they'd been doing for years, one their father had trained them specifically for. They weren't complacent, by any means, but they were confident. They knew what to do, how to do it, and were frighteningly efficient at dealing death to the monsters that preyed on humans.

Baby's tires crunched on the gravel of the side of the road. Without a word, they got out and rounded to the trunk, pulling their machetes out, coating them with blood. The walk through the forest seemed quicker. They tried to be quiet, but didn't worry too much about it. If they got the element of surprise, all the better, but the vamps had good senses, excellent hearing and sense of smell, so it was possible they'd lose the advantage. Dean hoped that the smell of the 'bathroom' would overwhelm, and that the vamps would count on their belief that no one knew where or what they were.

Fighting was always confusing. They crept on the outskirts of the camp and caught a vamp as he stumbled through the trees, drunk and looking for god only knew what. Maybe a new place to piss. Whatever his intention, he went down quickly but not so quietly. His shout alerted the other vamps, who came flying at Sam and Dean. Then, it was swing and hit, push, shove, punch the face in front of him, grab the hair, take the head off, shove the body.

Dean was slammed to the ground by a tackle and he grappled with the creature, finally shoving it off and, rolling over, kneeing it in the back before taking its head. He frantically scanned the area, needing to know where Sam was. He clambered to his feet, meeting the next vamp evenly, the head coming off in one good swing of the machete and falling to the ground. There was Sam, with two vamps circling him. Dean did a quick count, sixteen bodies on the floor, without heads. That left the two with Sam as the last members of the nest.

He pulled his gun, shot the one closest to him and moved forward to finish it while Sam took care of the last one. Tired, aching, and with dozens of little hurts, they dragged all the bodies together. They carefully cleared the area then, with a bit of lighter fluid and a match, burned the bodies, staying until the fire was out, watching it from a distance in an attempt to keep the thick smell of burning flesh off. They made sure the fire was put out once the bodies were charred; the last thing they wanted to do was cause a wildfire. Dean made the anonymous tip on the way back to the car, ensuring the rangers would find the camp and clean up, and they climbed inside, speeding away.

When they made it back to the motel, the first rays of dawn were just starting to lighten the sky. Beyond exhausted, they barely had the presence of mind to shuck jackets and boots before collapsing on their beds, sound asleep within minutes.


	2. Chapter 2

The long light of afternoon was creeping across the carpet when Dean finally stirred, sitting up and blinking in confusion. The blanket slid off his shoulders, pooling around his waist. He looked down at his chest, rubbing it, sniffing and looking to see where his brother was. Sam's bed was empty but disheveled, his filthy clothes from the night before pooled between their beds. The main door opened and Sam came in, bags of food in his hand, which he placed on the table.

Dean slid out of bed, looking for clothes. He took a deep breath; whatever Sam had brought smelled delicious. Rooting in his bag, he found a fresh pair of jeans, shirt, and boxers and headed for the bathroom. Sam was sitting down, sipping a cup of coffee, when Dean came out of the shower. He walked over, smiling in thanks when Sam handed him his own cup.

"Thanks for covering me with the blanket," he said with a nod, unwrapping his burger and dumping his fries out on the paper. When Sam stilled in his seat, he looked across the table at him. "What?"

"I didn't cover you, Dean. I thought you covered me. I fell asleep on top of the blanket."

"I did too," Dean said. He swallowed his bite of burger and glanced around the room.

"Well, it doesn't matter," Sam said brightly. Dean gave him a look, raised eyebrow and all. "We have to go meet the sheriff today, so finish up. In fact," Sam stood, picking up Dean's food, wrapping it up and shoving it back in the bag, "you can finish in the car. I'll drive."

Confused, Dean followed him, grabbing his coffee on the way out. Sam was standing on the concrete lip just outside the motel room, waiting for him.

"What the hell was that? Couldn't I have finished my food first?"

"Think about it, Dean.” Sam shoved the bag of food at Dean. “Someone put the blankets over us. Someone was watching cat videos on my computer."

"You weren't watching animal shows on TV yesterday, were you?" Dean frowned when Sam shook his head. "All right, here's what we'll do. We'll ward the door, lock whatever it is inside."

"What if it's not in the room?"

"Then the wards will keep it out of our room. We need some supplies, if we're gonna trap something that we don't even know what it is. We're almost out of salt, we don't have anything iron, we have no goofer dust or anything. I saw an herbalist shop in town, right on the edge. We'll go there, pick up a few things, then come back here and take care of this."

Sam nodded. They took what they needed from the trunk of the Impala, and soon, with chalk and what salt they did have, they warded the outside of the motel room. Dean made sure to hang up the 'do not clean' sign on the door and spoke to the manager, sliding a few large bills across the counter to make sure the chalk 'drawings' were left undisturbed.

He did let Sam drive, finishing his food in a hurry, choking down the last bit as Sam pulled into the herbalist’s parking lot. The shop owner gave them a hard look when they asked for what they needed, clearly wondering what they wanted the odd ingredients for, but Sam did his puppy dog look and within an hour, they had what they needed to trap multiple beings.

Sometimes it struck him as funny how easy it was to get certain things. It was almost as if people subconsciously knew they needed this or that for protection, and so created other reasons for having the herbs or crystals. Whatever, he thought with a shrug, it made it easier on them.

"What do you think it is?" he asked once they were back in the car, turning the key in the ignition. He wasn't looking forward to confronting this thing. The thought that it had been there, in their home (so to speak), messing with their stuff...

"I'm not sure it's a bad thing," Sam began, hesitant as if he worried Dean would be upset at his suggestion. Dean did shoot him a look, but he pressed on. "It watched TV and a video, Dean. It could have hurt us, instead it tucked us in."

"I haven't been having bad dreams," Dean said lowly, almost to himself.

"You have a lot of them?"

"Sometimes," Dean admitted, reluctantly. "It's not a big deal."

He dreamed of both of past events and future worries, of his mother dying, of Sam being hurt, Sam dying, Sam leaving. Of the last hunt he'd worked with his father, when Sam was still off playing normal, where a demon had ripped his father apart, laughing. It was at the funeral that he spoke to Sam for the first time in three years, and not two nights after that, after a fire claimed Sam's fiancée and home, the two began hunting together again. He dreamed of that night, too, of the haunted look in Sam's eyes. But he didn't tell Sam all of this, and probably never would.

"This doesn't look good," Dean said as they pulled into the motel's parking lot. He was grateful for the subject change, but worried at the sight of the manager waiting for them in front of the office. He parked the car and got out, leaving the bag behind for the moment. Sam climbed out was well and they walked towards the manager, who hurried to meet them.

"You can't have pets here, not something like that," the man began, pushing his thin, greasy hair back from his forehead. His watery blue eyes darted between the two brothers before settling on Dean. "It scared the maid and a couple who had the room next to yours."

"Did you see it?" Sam asked, ignoring the wide eyed look from Dean.

"The maid heard it," the manager snapped. "It was throwing a fit, slamming into the walls, growling. It was awful. You need to leave, before tonight."

"All right, all right, don't get your panties in a bunch," Dean said.

He walked back to the car, grabbed the bag with the herbs, and rejoined Sam. The manager had retreated into the safety of his office and now watched them closely from behind the glass. Dean waved, smiling at him, but he only got a scowl in return, so he shrugged and turned away, walking beside Sam to their room. Dean set the bag on the ground. They stood just outside their door, guns drawn, sides pressed against the wall, tense and ready. Dean glanced at Sam, who nodded, and he flung open the door in one fluid motion. As one, they turned, guns trained on the center of the room.

It was a disaster. Clothes were strewn everywhere. Broken glass and mirror shards littered the floor. Neither lamp made it through and Sam's mattress was tilted precariously against the far wall. Both stared, stunned, but they quickly recovered when their eyes adjusted to the dim room and they could make out a shape sitting hunched on Dean's bed.

Sam stepped fully into the room, letting Dean cross in front of him, and kicked the door closed.

"Buddy, you got five seconds to explain before I blow your head off."

Sam grimaced at Dean's threat but he felt the same anger at the violation of their room.

"I dislike being trapped."

The voice was deep, raspy, ' _phone sex voice_ ' his mind helpfully supplied and Dean told that part of his mind to shut the fuck up. The figure stepped forward.

He was tall, though not as tall as Dean, broad shouldered, fit, muscled. He was dressed strangely, in brown tights, boots, and a billowy shirt that made Dean think 'pirate', with bracers on his arms. He wore an intricately embroidered vest over the shirt, deep blue with silver threading and a short sword hung at his side. All in all, he looked like he'd stepped out of a story book. But this alone wasn't what made the brothers gape.

His eyes were glowing a brilliant azure, a glow reflected in beautiful, gossamer wings. They rose elegantly from his back, almost like transparent butterfly wings, and had little sworls and lines on them that glimmered and glittered in the ambient light of the sun filtering through the thin curtains at the window. Behind tousled dark curls, they could see the tips of elegantly pointed ears peeking through.

"What the _hell_."

Dean's softly uttered exclamation hung in the silent room. The man, for lack of a better word, moved forward, and Dean and Sam turned their guns in unison, automatically tracking him.

"I apologize. I mean you no harm."

"No harm? Didya look around the room, buddy?"

The man did look around, frowning. "I reacted badly to being contained here. I will make it right, but I need your help."

"Has it been you?" Sam asked, dropping his gun and stepping forward, ignoring Dean's hiss of his name. "I mean, being on my computer, the TV?"

"Yes. I enjoy learning about you. It's fascinating all the things you humans have done, and continue to do. I was small, then," he said, looking down at his hands. "I ran out of dust, so I can't fly and it's safer to be this size when I can't fly."

"Dust. You ran out of dust. What's that, like a drug?" Dean lowered his gun, too, and tucked it against the small of his back.

"Pixie dust, and it helps me fly. But I left Neverland and I can't get it here, so I can not fly."

"Neverland. Right. Is that next to Honah Lee?"

"Dean!"

Dean rolled his eyes at his brother's chiding. He jerked his head a bit, indicating the man. "You don't question this at all, Sam? I mean, come on, _Neverland_?"

"With everything that we've seen, no, I don't question that it's possible. You know as well as I do that fairy tales all have a bit of truth to them."

"You know of Neverland?" The man stepped forward, eager now, placing his hand on Dean's shoulder, crowding close to him, pinning him with an intense look.

Dean stared into his blue eyes, no longer glowing but still somehow as brilliant a blue. There was something there, something about the dark, thick lashes framing his eyes, the hint of pink on his cheeks, the stubble, and his lips, pale and plush, and Dean found himself staring at them, now, licking his own lips. He felt his cheeks heat up and he coughed, pulling slightly away.

"Uh, personal space, buddy."

"My name is not 'buddy', it's Castiel. And what do you mean, personal space?"

Damn, but that head tilt was as effective as Sam's puppy dog eyes, and Dean melted, just a bit.

"He means you're too close and he's worried about losing his masculinity," Sam teased. "And to answer your question, yes, we know about Neverland because of a story, written by a man named Barrie."

"James," Castiel said, a warm smile lighting up his face, and to Dean’s relief, he took a step back, nodding. "He was a bright boy, very inquisitive. He wrote a story about us?"

"About Peter Pan, who takes three kids on a magic trip to Neverland. They have a lot of adventures, fight pirates, that sort of thing, then come home, because they want to grow up. But that's not the real story, is it?" Dean asked, his suspicions raised by the pained look on Castiel's face.

A knock at the door startled the three and cut off whatever answer Castiel might have said. Dean opened it a crack, sighing at the sight of the red faced manager.

"You need to leave," the man said, trying to look in the room.

"Yeah, yeah, we're packing now. Thanks," Dean answered, shutting the door in his face. He glanced back at Sam and Castiel, and gestured at the latter with a wave of his arm. "It's going to be difficult walking him out there like this. We can give him clothes, but those wings..."

His voice dropped off; Castiel's wings began to glow brightly, almost too bright to look at, then they faded. As in, they faded completely and were no longer visible, or there. His ears, too, changed, the tips shrinking, and, when he brushed his hair back, they were now rounded and human looking.

"Satisfactory?" Castiel asked, looking pleased with himself.

"Uh, yeah. Here." Dean walked to his bag and grabbed a set of clothes. He figured Castiel could wear his things, as Sam's would be too long or too large. He tossed them on the bed. "You need to change."

Castiel frowned, but unbuckled his belt, slipping it off and laying it and the sword carefully on the bed. Completely ignoring the slightly stunned look on Dean's face, or the amused one on Sam's, he lifted his shirt over his head and pulled it off. Next were his leggings, which he unlaced and shoved down, and at that, Dean whirled around, closing his eyes tightly.

"Shut up!" he hissed at Sam, who was giggling like an idiot. "He's not wearing underwear!"

"Like you don't want to look," Sam retorted.

"Bite me!" Dean socked his brother in the arm. "Are you done yet?" he asked, over loudly.

"I have put on the clothing you gave me. Did I upset you?"

"Nah, man, just next time, change in the bathroom or something. Come on, let's get our stuff."

They didn't bother to try to clean up, simply grabbed whatever, threw it in bags haphazardly, and left the room. Dean shoved some money at the manager and the three climbed into the Impala, Castiel in the front seat and Sam in the back. If Castiel turned out to be a problem, it'd be easier to deal with him in the front. With a squeal of tires, they peeled out of the parking lot and were on the road.

"What's the real story about Barrie, Cas?" Dean asked, heading for the highway.

"Cas?" Castiel's head tilted again. Damn it.

"I'm a nicknames guy, get used to it," Dean explained.

Cas nodded and took a deep breath, twisting slightly in his seat to face Dean.

"Barrie was brought to Neverland by the Pan named Peter. But he was allowed to leave."

"Allowed to leave?" Sam asked, leaning forward, his arms wrapped around the back of Cas's seat. "And there's more than one Pan?"

"Let him speak, Sammy. Go on, Cas. Spill."

"Spill what?" Damn it, there was the head tilt again, and the confused look on his face wasn’t cute, not at all. Dean was good with denial.

"He means tell us everything you know," Sam said.

Cas nodded. "A Pan is a spirit. They live on Neverland and they come here to take children back with them. The children always have a lot of fun, but..." Cas's voice trailed off and he frowned, looking down at his hands which he was twisting together in his lap. He didn't want to admit the part his family played in the fates of the children. He needed these two humans to help him.

"But..." Dean prodded, glancing at Cas.

"Pans use fairies. We fly to the Mainland with them and we are the reason the children can fly."

"Like Tinkerbell, right? You sprinkle the pixie dust, they think happy thoughts, and up they go?"

"Yes," Cas said, smiling at Sam. "But the Pans aren't taking the children to let them have fun."

"Let me guess, they eat them," Dean said, disgust coloring his voice.

"No, of course not!" Cas shook his head at the notion, crinkling up his nose and frowning.

"Good."

"They steal their life force to stay immortal," Cas continued.

"I knew it, I fucking _knew_ it," Dean said, slapping his hand on the steering wheel. "Is there any fairy tale or legend that _doesn't_ involve killing kids or people?"

"So, what, _you_ hurt kids?" Sam pulled back, his eyes hard. Cas frantically shook his head.

"No, I didn't want to. A Pan came for me, and I ran away. He'd brought me to the Mainland and I got away before he could bind me to him. I flew so hard and far, and just when I thought I'd be taken, I found this."

Cas ran his hand along the Impala's dash, a fond smile on his face.

"This wondrous cave saved me. I pushed my way in, although the outer walls stung, and the Pan fought, attacking it, but he couldn't break in. I hid and waited, and then you came, and you seemed so nice. I stayed with you and helped where I could. I'm sorry I touched your things, Sam."

" _You_ left the window down." Dean's voice was flat, cold. Cas scooted against the door, shrinking away from him.

"Hey!" Dean rubbed the back of his head where Sam had slapped him lightly and glared at his brother in the rear view mirror.

"Stop it, you're scaring him," Sam said, "and I'm not apologizing for popping you."

"Cas, I'm sorry. I'm glad she could protect you. But, uh, next time put the window back up." He paused for a second when something occurred to him. “The walls stung? What, like iron? Is it bothering you now?”

“Not in this human form, no. My magic is dampened, so the iron isn’t hurting.”

"What about the Pan that chased you?" Sam turned his attention back to Cas, who had relaxed a bit, but was still sitting as close to the car door, and as far from Dean, as he could.

"He was very angry. He's been trying to bond with me for quite some time. He should have returned to Neverland."

"What do you mean bond with you, and if he didn't go back, what would he do?" Dean asked.

"A Pan bonds permanently with one fairy. When bonded, we belong to the Pan, heart, mind and soul. It's why Tinkerbell was so hurt by Peter's behavior. Peter fell in love with James, and didn't kill him as he had other children. He let James go home. Tink saw it as a betrayal. She wanted to be Peter's only love." Castiel paused then, turning to look at the window.

"I don't wish to be bonded to any Pan," he continued, softly. "I love the children, and it always hurts to see them fade away, but it's expected of me. We have no choice in the matter. The Pans can do with us what they will."

"And if the Pan didn't go home?"

Cas fell silent, turning his head away, looking out the window. Dean felt a sinking sensation in his stomach and he shared a worried look with his brother.

"He did not go back," Cas finally said. "I planned on telling you when you returned from talking with the sheriff. I looked on your computer, Sam, to see the village the Pan chased me to. I'll eventually have to go back to Neverland, and I thought if I started there, I might find my way back without help. There were pictures, of children gone, their parents begging for their return. I knew I had to go there, and quickly. But then I tried to open the door and I couldn't, and it hurt, and I became angry."

He glanced at Dean, unhappy with the stormy look on his face. "He won't kill the children right away. He hopes to lure me back, so that I will give myself to him. I wanted you to take me there, as I can't fly anymore."

"You want us to just hand you over to the Pan?" Dean's expression grew angrier.

Cas sighed, deep and heavy. "No, that's the last thing I want, but I can't allow the children to be punished in my stead."

"That's not going to happen, Cas," Dean said firmly. "We'll go back, we'll figure out what we're gonna do, but if you don't want to bond with this thing, then you're not going to, and that's final."

"Dean, do you truly mean that?" Cas's face looked so hopeful, that Dean couldn't help it, he grinned at him.

"Of course, Cas, I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. We both will, right, Sam?"

Sam nodded emphatically in agreement. Cas smiled weakly, a slight turn of his lips, and leaned his head against the glass, staring out the window. Dean was the most beautiful person he'd ever encountered, fairy or human, and something had sparked in his soul when he'd first laid eyes on the man, the first night after the Pan chased him.

He'd sneaked into one of the bags and waited until all was calm. It was easy to slip out of the bag and use his magic to transport those bags inside once the men fell asleep. Everything they did was fascinating, and Cas sat quietly until they were snoring loudly to fly around the room and explore.

He froze when he heard the sounds of distress coming from one of the beds. Dean had been having some sort of nightmare, twisting on the bed, and Cas flew up to him, running a hand along his cheek, landing right next to his head on the pillow. He'd snuggled next to his neck and, singing softly, chased the bad dreams away, leaving only good ones behind.

[](http://imgur.com/zh3ho4F)

After that first night, he'd spent every night tucked next to Dean. When the two humans left, he flew out and explored, experimenting with Sam’s computer, learning how to turn on the TV, investigating every nook and cranny of the hotel room and wishing they’d come back. Listening to them talk, the soft cadence of Dean’s voice washing over him, was something he looked forward to; it was soothing and helped with the anxiousness of being far from home. He liked them both, but he was afraid of what he suspected he was beginning to feel for Dean.

~~*~~

They drove for hours. Cas discovered he liked some of the music that Dean played, but not all of it. He enjoyed the stories the brothers told of each other, and liked talking to Sam about legends and stories. He told them many tales about Neverland, about pirates and mermaids, and the dragon that lived on the far side of the island, and how some fairies liked to tease the hawk, but only the fastest fliers. He blushed when Dean teased him, and admitted reluctantly that, yes, he was known throughout the hollow for having pulled tail feathers out of the hawk and for wearing them like a badge.

They stopped for food when stomachs were growling and Cas was yawning wide enough his jaw cracked. He trailed after Sam and Dean into the restaurant and, following Dean's urging, slid onto a soft seat at a table, something Dean told him was a booth when he sat next to him, with Sam taking the opposite seat. A woman came over and Dean spoke to her, telling her what food they wanted. Cas watched their interaction with a slight frown. Dean was very friendly with this woman, who giggled and smiled at him. He turned away, catching Sam looking at him with a curious expression and dropped his gaze to the scarred tabletop, fidgeting with the silverware.

The woman returned with glasses filled with brown liquid and placed them in front of the men. Dean leaned over, watched her leave, then settled back in his seat, shrugging at Sam's exasperated look. Cas picked up his dark drink and stared at it, pulling it close and sniffing. The bubbles tickled his nose, but it smelled fruity and sweet, and he took a sip. He licked his lips and grinned. This drink was good.

"We're going to have to stop for the night," Sam remarked. "We need to decide where, and how many rooms." He put a straw in his soda and took a long pull.

Dean glanced at Cas and sighed. "We should get just one room. It's cheaper, and if something happens we'll be there. Do you think the Pan knows you're coming?"

"He assumes I will," Cas said.

His eyes widened at the plate of food placed before him. With both hands, he picked up the huge burger and took a bite, a low moan escaping when the flavors burst over his tongue. He'd never tasted anything like this before; it was simply amazing, sharp and tangy, with the cheese melted perfectly and the tomato and lettuce wonderfully fresh.

"This makes me very happy," he said, grinning.

"We can tell," Dean said, nudging him sharply. Cas glared at him in return; that poke had been somewhat painful.

"You're glowing," Sam said, tapping his hand.

There was always some residual dust in a fairy. It never drained completely out, so having such a happy thought was causing a pale glow. Cas dampened it and looked around, but it seemed as if no one had noticed.

"I'll be right back." Dean rapped his knuckles on the table and slid out of the booth, walking away.

Cas deliberately did not look at him. He had a feeling from Dean's behavior that he was interested in courting the female and if he was, Cas didn't want to see it. He'd seen other fairies when they flirted and Dean was acting just like one of them. He knew he had no right to feel unhappy about it, but still, he did. Instead of worrying about Dean's behavior, he focused on his food, eating his burger and the fries, which were salty and delicious. Sam showed him ketchup, so he put those on his fries and 'mmmmm'd' at the taste, washing it all down with the drink.

"You didn't want a burger?" he asked, popping another fry in his mouth.

"I like salads," Sam explained. "They're not bad for you, like burgers."

"This is bad?" Cas looked at his plate, worry creasing his brow. He'd eaten the whole thing--was he going to be sick now?

"Not once or twice, but if it's all you eat, like Dean, then yeah, it's bad for you."

Slightly mollified, Cas looked around for Dean, who returned at that moment, slipping back into his seat.

"Burgers aren't bad, Sam. Not everyone is a rabbit like you." Dean took a huge bite of his. "We don't have to worry about sharing beds, either," he mumbled around his mouthful. Sam scowled and he swallowed, chasing it down with soda. "You take one bed, Cas the other."

"What about you?" Cas frowned.

"Yeah, see, Melissa?" Dean waved at the woman who'd brought their food and she waved back. "I'm going home with her. Here's the keys," he shot them across the table at Sam. "She's off shift right now. See you guys in the morning!" Dean grabbed his plate and took off, oblivious to the irritated look on Sam's face or the blank look on Cas's face.

"Come on, Cas, let's get out of here," Sam said, throwing some bills down.

Cas followed him from the restaurant, his spirits low. He let Sam lead him to the car, got in without complaint, and sat silent while Sam looked for and found a hotel. The room was nice, nicer than the last one, and he sat forlornly one of the beds, not sure of what was expected of him now. Sam was on the phone, just outside the door, and whoever he was talking to was arguing with him, judging by the harshness of Sam’s voice, and how it rose in anger. He stepped inside, right before ending his call, his expression dark.

"Just make sure you're here in the morning and please, spare us the details, ok?" He hung up his phone and smiled at Cas, who shrugged and looked away. "Let's go to bed. Dean will be back by the morning, and we'll get to Adventure by tomorrow evening."

"Can I watch the TV?" Cas asked. He really liked the TV and the things it showed.

"Yeah, just turn the sound down," Sam said.

They got comfortable, Cas copying Sam by taking off his shoes and socks and climbing under the covers of his bed. The cartoons kept his mind busy for a bit, but soon his eyelids became heavy and he couldn’t fight the yawns any longer. He drifted off to the sounds of classical music and to dreams of a blue and purple bird forever running from a persistent coyote.


	3. Chapter 3

Cas woke to the sound of the brothers talking and yawned, sitting up and stretching. Sleeping here felt different than it did in his home in the hollow. There were no sounds of nature around him; the fairies tended to use whatever they found to build their dwellings and tools, and always built into the surroundings instead of over them. He missed the smells of baking bread, of the earth outside, of the smoke from the tinkers' forges. Homesickness made his body feel heavy. He slid out from under the covers and sat on the bed, hunched slightly over, elbows on his knees, head down and hands hanging.

"Hey, you ok?"

The bed dipped next to him. Cas shook his head, not looking over at Dean.

"Where did you go?" His voice was lower than usual, gruffer. He cleared his throat; it felt like he had a lump there, and he wasn't used to that sensation.

"Why does it matter, Cas? I had a good night, you got to sleep in a bed." Dean slapped him on the back and stood up. "Come on, we gotta get going. If we drive straight, we can make it to Adventure by tonight."

Castiel looked at him then, studying his face. Dean was smiling at him, the skin at the corner of his eyes crinkling, his mouth turned up in a lovely curve, his green eyes shining. Cas wanted to touch that mouth, count the freckles that dusted Dean's tanned skin, wanted to feel the roughness of his stubble, to run his hands through his hair, but he knew he didn't have the right. Instead he dropped his gaze and stood up, slipping his borrowed shoes on and walking to the door. He wrapped his arms around his waist and waited, staring out at the parking lot through the big window as the two men loaded the car back up. He followed them from the room, climbing into the back seat, having no desire to sit next to Dean for the hours it would take to make it to Adventure.

They stopped often for snacks, breaks, gas. Cas kept to himself, staying in the car and playing with Sam's phone, only leaving the car to use the bathroom occasionally. He thought he was being subtle, if quiet, that the dark mood that pressed down on him wasn't obvious.

"Cas, are you all right?"

They were at one of the many anonymous, run down gas stations they'd stopped at along the way. Cracked pavement was split and uneven; grass pushed its way through the pavement, clinging to life. The pumps were old, with faded and peeling stickers, and the station nothing more than a clapboard shack, its white paint dull and dingy. Dean was inside paying for their gas and getting something to eat. Sam had stepped inside for a minute, but instead of getting in the front seat when he returned, he'd opened the back door and sat next to Cas.

"I'm fine, Sam," Cas answered, not meeting Sam's gaze. "I am simply worried about the Pan."

"He doesn't know what he wants, you know," Sam said. He settled against the car door and studied Cas.

Cas glanced at him then, tilting his head, his brow furrowed. "The Pan? Yes, he does. He wants me."

"No, I mean Dean." Sam shook his head, a slight smile curving his lips. "There was this guy, Aaron. Dean was head over heels with him. Aaron was an ass, though, strung him along, made Dean jump through hoops, then said he wasn't gay, wasn't interested. It had taken Dean forever to admit he liked guys too, and then Aaron pulls this crap and Dean just dove back into that closet, too scared to come out of it again."

"Sam, I don't understand. Why are you telling me this? And why would Dean need to hide in a closet? Was he in danger?" Cas's eyes widened and he leaned forward. "Is he in danger now?" He leaned over, looking for Dean and sighing softly when he saw him at the counter, still talking to the attendant.

"No," and Cas flushed at the laughter in Sam's voice, "he's not in danger of anything except letting his pride get in the way.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over Cas’s face. “You like him."

"Of course, I like him. I like you both." Cas smiled reassuringly at Sam.

"No, I mean you really like him. As in, want to be with him. Bond?" Sam asked, knowing he'd hit the right word when Cas blushed hotly and looked away.

"I barely know him," Cas said stiffly in a gruff voice. "How could I possibly want that? He's not interested, either," he finished quietly, his voice dropping to almost a whisper.

"I knew the very instant I saw her."

"Saw who?" Cas looked over at Sam, but the human's eyes were trained outside the windshield.

"Jess. The second I saw her, I knew. We met at a party and we must have talked all night long and by the time morning came I knew I was going to ask her to marry me."

Sam's voice was rough with remembered pain. He ran his hands through his long hair, pushing it back from his face. Cas ached to reach out, to comfort him, but he stayed on his side of the seat, not sure how Sam would react if he tried to soothe him.

"What happened?" he asked quietly. He didn't wish to pry, but it was clear from the tight expression on Sam's face that he still missed and loved this Jess.

"She was killed, and Dean, well, he had to pick up the pieces and put me back together. It happened a while ago." Sam shrugged, almost as if he were shaking the memories off. He smiled at Cas, a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "The thing is, when it's right, it's right. Sometimes, you just _know_."

"And you are saying I know?"

Sam simply looked at him, his hazel eyes soft with concern. Cas swallowed hard and turned his head, looking out at the scrubby field next to the gas station, watching the yellow brown grass wave in the wind.

"When we bond, it can be almost instantaneous. It is rare and it never happens with a Pan, always with another fairy. Pan bonds are forced and it's painful, but a natural one, with another fairy, is said to be beautiful. I had hoped to have one of those bonds, to spare me from a Pan."

_And to finally have someone accept me_ , he added silently. It was no secret Castiel was the odd one out in the hollow, even more so than any other fairy. He wanted someone who loved him for him, who welcomed his oddity. Was that impossible or unreasonable? Could he really have that with Dean?

"How do you know there's a bond? And why does this Pan want you so badly?"

They were both startled when the front door of the car swung open and Dean slung himself into the seat. He turned around, a thin rope of red hanging from his mouth, and blinked at the two men staring at him.

"What?" he asked, pulling the Twizzler out. He lifted up the packet and offered them each some; Sam declined, but Cas took one, examining the object. "It's candy, Cas, you eat it."

"It's disgusting," Sam countered, frowning at his brother, but he relented when Dean threw him a package of M&M's.

"A bond is never just one way, or a set experience," Cas said, playing with his candy. "Each fairy feels it differently, although there are some things that stay true. You are able to feel your bonded, to hear them when they call for you, even if they do not use words. You are able to heal them, although it drains you. You can share emotion and are drawn to your bonded, wanting nothing more than to be near them."

"Ok, and we're discussing this because?" Dean looked questioningly at Sam, who scowled and shook his head at him.

"No reason," Cas said, throwing the candy down and turning to the window. "The Pan's name is Euan. He has always been around the hollow, and he knows many of my family. He knows I'm a fast flier, that I am a strong warrior. But I think it's my skill with children that he desires the most. The little ones trust me. They always have."

"Do you get to reject a bond? I mean, do you have a say in it?" Sam’s gaze swept over Cas’s face, concern evident in his furrowed brow and the slight downward turn of his lips.

"A fairy never rejects a Pan. It isn't done," Cas said, resting his forehead against the cool glass of the door. "I will have much to answer for when I go home."

"So what, he says you're bonded, and that's that?"

"Pans can force the bond on the fairy, Dean." He sighed deeply, closing his eyes. "If he wishes, I won't have a choice in the matter. Once he has me in his power, I will bond with him, unless I am already bonded with another."

"All right, we get you laid, then you're protected from the Pan. We can do that."

Cas refused to acknowledge the statement, although he was fairly certain Dean was teasing, feeling his spirits sink even lower. Perhaps he should just accept fate and allow Euan to have him. He felt a hand on his shoulder, then the car rocked when Sam climbed out of the backseat and moved up front. It started with a low growl and the vibrations running through the metal frame as Dean pulled out of the parking lot made the window knock against his forehead.

They drove on. Sam and Dean spoke quietly in the front seat. Cas did his best to block them out. He wanted to be small again, to climb under the seat and huddle against the far wall of the car, to hide. He resisted the urge. Changing size required a lot of magic--it wasn't something most fairies ever managed. He'd be weakened if he tried now. As it was, the magic he was using to hide his wings was a drain, but he didn't tell the humans that.

Was Sam right? He'd felt drawn to Dean that first night, almost instinctively soothing his dreams. He had slipped inside Dean's mind, marveled at the colors and wonders of his dreamscapes. He felt close to the human and wanted to be closer. Closing his eyes and stretching along the backseat, he turned his face towards the leather back and let his mind wander.

Cas slowed his breathing, focusing his concentration, seeking Dean's mind. And there it was, a riot of thoughts bombarding him, _Sam, Cas, worry, how to fight the Pan, was Cas ok, why did he look so sad, what is Sam being so dorky about, Sam, why is Sam looking at him like that, damn, but Cas looks good in the back seat, is his shirt riding up, and yeah, I can see stomach wonder what it'd be like to…_

Sitting up abruptly, Cas jerked his shirt down towards his jeans and squirmed in the seat. He glanced at the mirror and met Dean's eyes. Dean's brow was creased, his eyebrows dipping together but Cas simply shook his head and looked away.

~~*~~

They pulled into Adventure late into the night. Dean chose a different motel, on the opposite side of town from the last one they'd stayed at, asking for a room around the backside and away from the road. All three men were exhausted and Cas went for the nearest bed, kicking off his shoes along the way and climbing under the blanket, snuggling in. There was a heated, whispered argument, then the sounds of movement, but Cas refused to open his eyes, even when the mattress moved and the blanket was lifted, then pulled back up.

"I know you're not asleep."

Cas couldn't stop a smile at Dean's whisper. He shook his head slightly, turning his face into his pillow.

Dean 'humphed' and wriggled for a bit, getting comfortable. Cas waited patiently until his breathing evened out, until he could feel that Dean was asleep from his quieted thoughts. Gingerly, he shifted in the bed, moving closer. He ended up tucked against Dean's side, sighing in contentment when, in his sleep, Dean wrapped his arms around him and pulled him close. A quick 'touch', and Cas knew Dean's dreams were pleasant, at least tonight, so he relaxed, drifting off to sleep.

He woke before Dean did and carefully extricated himself from Dean's hold, sneaking out of bed. At the sound of a small cough, he looked up to see Sam smiling at him and he flushed, but said nothing before heading to the bathroom. When he was finished, he came out to find Dean and Sam sitting at the table, looking at Sam's computer.

"Hey, Cas, come're." Dean patted the chair next to him, waiting for Cas to sit before pointing at the monitor. "He's taken four children. Are you sure they're safe?"

"He may have drained them somewhat," Cas said, reaching out to touch the picture of the smiling, brown haired boy on the screen. "But he won't kill them. He knows I'll give myself to him if he doesn't harm the children. I've been told I'm odd," he continued in a soft voice, "because I care so much for them. My mother said I was always a bit off, that there is something wrong with me."

"That's bullshit," Dean said, frowning at Cas. "Don't the other fairies care about the kids at all?"

"They do, but not as I do." Cas shifted in his seat, avoiding Dean's gaze. He knew he was broken and he knew it mattered to no one. "To a fairy, a child is fun, an imaginative playmate. They see them, and all humans, as curiosities, but it goes no further. Most fairies prefer not to interact with humans, and many fear them, choosing to stay away from children unless their Pan needs them. Some even dislike children intensely, but that might be jealousy, as it was with Tink."

"Cas, how do we fight this Pan?" Sam asked, changing the subject. Cas smiled gratefully at him. He was beginning to really appreciate Sam's intuition and tenderness.

"Pans always come in the night time. They're not harmed by daylight, but children are more vulnerable at night, unless their mother lights a night light of love to protect and watch over them. They're terrified of dogs--they truly hate them. And, if you can get a Pan's shadow, you can control it, but they know that and guard their shadow jealously. That's another reason they hunt at night. Their shadows aren't as easy to see."

"What can they do?"

"They know what you fear. They can affect your thoughts, make you obey them. Children are perfect for this, they already play pretend and have amazing imaginations." Cas paused, wondering just how to explain. "A Pan can make anything real. Say you were hungry, they'd imagine the food and it would be real to you, if they had you in their control. The food wouldn't actually be there, but you would taste it, feel your hunger sated, even become sick from eating too much. A Pan is horrifically powerful when it comes to what they can make you think is real."

"Great. How do we stop someone from getting in our minds?"

"I don't know."

"Don't worry, we'll do what we always do," Dean said, clapping him on the back.

"And what is that?"

"Wing it." Dean stood up and, grabbing some clothes on the way, walked into the bathroom.

"We would normally research, but you've given us more information than we'd pull up on our own," Sam said. He typed on the keyboard for a moment, bringing up a map of the town. "Where do you think it's likely the Pan will be?"

"If there are fir woods? He'd want to be somewhere he can build a power base, and he gets strength from nature. He won't be easy to fight."

Sam sighed, closing the laptop. "Well, we'll figure out something. I'm going to go get some food. Tell Dean I'll be right back."

"All right."

Sam grabbed the keys and slipped on his jacket, leaving and locking the door behind him. Cas listened as the car started and fidgeted in his seat. He could hear the water running, see the steam escaping from under the door and he really, really wanted to peek in the room, to see Dean. With a deep sigh, he stood and went to sit on the bed, turning on the TV and searching for a cartoon. He settled on a strange one, about group of humans who seemed to be half metal birds, but they could fly and that was pleasing.

He barely noticed when it began. First, it was a feeling of warmth, but that soon grew and he began to feel heated all over. He tentatively reached out, and that's when it hit him full force. Images of him, pressed against the bed, Dean leaning over him, mouths against each other's skin. Dean kissing him, his lips moving on Cas's, Cas's bottom lip being sucked then lightly bitten. Cas fell back on the bed, his hands fisted in the bedspread at his sides. Dean was doing this, was thinking of him like this.

He closed his eyes and he could see what he was thinking, how Dean imagined him spread out and waiting for him, how Dean's mouth and hands danced on his skin. Dean had to be touching himself, Cas could feel it. He moved his hand down to where he was hard and pressed against his erection, letting loose with a sobbing moan. Frantically, he shoved his hand down his pants and moved it in time with Dean, wrapping his fingers around his cock, the feeling of skin against skin becoming overwhelming. He could sense that the man was close, felt the tight coil of pressure, of pleasure building, could feel that amazing release. Dimly, he noted that Dean called out, but he wasn't aware that it was his name that he was saying.

He lay there panting, his own release coating his jeans. Mortified, he rolled over and, moving quickly, lest Dean catch him, he stripped, using a dirty t shirt to wipe up and pulled on another pair of jeans. When Dean came out of the shower, Cas was once again sitting calmly on the bed, watching cartoons. Dean wondered about the flush on his cheeks, but chose not to say anything. He sat at the table, pulling Sam's laptop open and typing on the keys.

"Sam left to get food." Cas's voice was steady, so maybe miracles did happen.

"Good. Any ideas how to find the Pan?"

"I told Sam to look for wooded areas with fir. He'll be in a clearing, one he's made into a forest playground. He'll have the children there, but since he can affect your view of reality, you might not be able to see them." Cas stood and walked over to the table, sitting in the same chair as before. "He'll try to hurt you and Sam, use your fears against you. Are you sure, Dean, that you want to do this?"

"This is what we do, Cas," Dean said, reaching out and placing his hand over Cas's. He smiled gently, trying to be reassuring. "Saving people, hunting things. It's the family business."

"The family business?" Cas turned his hand palm up, pleased when Dean didn't pull his hand away.

"Yeah, my dad, he raised us in this life. Mom died when we were little. Sam was just a baby, and I was a kid. Dad took us on the road, taught us how to hunt, how to protect people. Even if you weren't here, if we knew about the kids, we'd still try to help, to fight the Pan. You being here?" He squeezed Cas's hand, threading their fingers together. "That’s a bonus. It gives us extra information and that's a good thing."

Cas stared at Dean, searching his face, mesmerized by his intense gaze. Dean's mouth quirked and he leaned forward, lifting his hand, cupping Cas's face and rubbing his thumb along his jaw. Cas let Dean draw him close and his eyes closed as he anticipated the soft touch of Dean's lips, but the sound of the door handle moving interrupted. Dean flew back as if he'd been shocked, jerking his hand free from Cas's. Cas huffed a sharp breath, shot him an irritated look and leaned back in the chair, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Sam," Dean called a bit too loudly. He stood and moved around Cas to take some of the food from Sam, setting it down on the table, studiously ignoring the dark looks Cas was giving him.

"So, what's the plan of action?" Sam asked. He glanced from Cas's pouting face to Dean's flushed one, and guessed he'd interrupted something. He knew he'd get nothing from Dean, so he made a mental note to talk to Cas later.

"Drive around, look for woods that fit?"

"I think we should just drive out to the woods. If I let my wings show and do some magic, Euan will come find me. He'll be looking for me. He knows I'll come back."

"So, just let you walk right into his hands, with no protection?" Dean shook his head. "No."

"It isn't your decision, Dean," Cas snapped. He shoved the chair back from the table and stood.

"I'm not about to let you sacrifice yourself, Cas."

" _Let me_?" His voice was dangerously low, and Dean swallowed, realizing he'd maybe stepped over a line he hadn't even known existed.

"I don't want to los-" Dean coughed. "Uh, I don't want anything to happen to you. We can figure out a way to trap the Pan, if we work together."

"You said they don't like light, right?" Sam interjected, touching Cas's arm. Cas broke the stare down he was having with Dean to look at Sam.

"Light makes their shadows more visible, and with that, more susceptible. They'll protect their shadows at any cost."

"So, we lure it somewhere we can hit it with bright light, make its shadow appear. How do we get the shadow?"

"Just grab it," Cas asked confused. Every fairy knew how to grab a shadow and how to sew it back on. Pans certainly couldn't do it themselves, so they relied on their fairies for that, as well as almost every other menial task.

"We can't grab something that isn't there," Dean said glancing at Sam.

"Of course the shadow is there," Cas countered. He was beginning to get irritated again.

"Not for us," Sam said. "We can't physically touch it."

"But James is the one who sewed Peter's shadow back on. You have the story, isn't it in there?"

"In the story, it's a girl, Wendy who has the shadow. Her mother put it in a drawer and Peter finds it and tries to attach it with soap. Wendy sews it on for him."

Cas thought for a second, falling into his seat and slumping down. "Wendy must be James. But I do remember very clearly that James could touch Peter's shadow."

"You remember?" Dean's sounded incredulous and he shared a glance with Sam. Just how old was Cas, if he remembered James Barrie?

Cas simply gave him a blank look. "I can grab it, but he'll attack me if I do. I'm not strong enough to fight him, though. He'll be able to take it back fairly quickly. Plus, if I get close enough to him to grab it, I'll be close enough for him to force a bond on me."

"What would he do, if he bonded with you?" Dean asked. "Would you be able to influence him?"

"No, I wouldn't. He would be able to use my magic as he wished. I would obey his orders and he would..." Cas flushed, looking away, frowning.

"He would what?" Sam gently prodded.

"He'd use me," Cas said softly. "He called me beautiful, when he courted me. He asked my mother for me and she agreed, saying he'd be a good mate. But I don't want a mate like him. I don't want someone who will own me. I don't want to blindly follow orders; I want to be my own free person."

"Then we'll think of something else," Dean said.

"But what? Using me as bait is the best idea, Dean. It is the guaranteed way to draw Euan out."

"It's a shitty plan, Cas. What happens when he gets you? Not only have we lost you, but he now has your magic and is more powerful than before."

"We should try to trap his shadow." Sam stood, gathering their trash and throwing it away. "If you think we can touch the shadow, if you saw Barrie do it, then that is what we'll try. Besides light and dogs, what are Pans afraid of?"

"Not much. They have almost no fear, and they are cruel and capricious." Cas rested his elbow on the table, cupping his chin in his hand. "What if we find a home and I go into a child's room? Euan will be drawn to it, both the child and me, and if you were waiting, we'd have a controlled area to try to trap him. That's how Peter lost his shadow."

"The mother trapped it in the window by accident, didn't she?" Sam looked thoughtful and then smiled. "I think this could work."

"Yeah, all we have to do is find a family that will let us use their child as bait. Easy enough." Dean's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm.

Cas chose to ignore that for now and pressed on. "It needn't be an actual family, or child. We only have to make Euan think there's a child there. He'll come for me more than anything else."

"He won't notice?"

"Pans are arrogant. They believe they are the best at everything, that no one could possibly outsmart something as brilliant as they. If we make the room look like a child's room, Euan will rush in, assuming I'm there to protect it. He will be so focused on claiming me, I don't think he'll even realize there isn't a child there."

"There are plenty of empty houses," Sam said. He smiled. "This could actually work. And if we get a dog..."

"NO dogs, Sam." Dean shook his head. "Absolutely, in no way, shape or form, are we getting a dog."


	4. Chapter 4

Dean sneezed, glaring at the large, hairy, slobbering beast that was going to chew Baby to bits, he just knew it and if it didn't it would get its gross drool all over Baby's seats and he'd never get the smell out and he was going to kill Sam...

Sam, who sat there stupidly grinning and petting the dumb creature on the head, was blithely ignoring his brother's foul mood and pouting. Cas had approved of the dog, which was a large Newfoundland like the one in the story, although this particular animal was black. It sat calmly in the back seat with Sam, it's massive head resting on Sam's massive lap.

"Are we sure this is a good idea?"

"The dog is willing to protect us," Cas said, looking over the back of the seat at the creature. "I'm not an animal fairy, but I can talk to it. I told it we needed help, that something was harming pups and we need it to help us stop the threat. If it scares Euan, he'll freeze and that will give you a chance to catch his shadow."

"But it's drooling..." Dean closed his eyes briefly, knowing he was whining, but not caring.

"Then drive quickly," Sam offered, smirking at his brother from the back seat.

Dean grunted, but said nothing else, starting the car up. They had scouted around before ‘borrowing’ the dog from a rescue center. After looking at various abandoned and for sale properties, they found a house on the outskirts of town, close to a wooded area. It was a model home, intended to sell houses in a future community. Set up to mimic a real, lived in house, it looked nice and was in a quiet area, set off in the country, isolated at the moment as the subdivision was still in a planning and building stage.

He approached it now, putting the car in park and letting it idle. He slipped out of the car and walked up to the gate of the white picket fence that bracketed the front of the house’s lawn, swinging it open, wide enough for the car to get through. He got back in the Impala, drove it onto the property, then closed the gate.

The long, winding driveway was lined with old trees that dripped their branches over the gravel path. The grounds were loosely landscaped, with flowerbeds few and far between. Whoever had designed it had gone for the natural look, which would work to their advantage as the tree line was very close to the house. It was just barely past four now and the sun would be setting in a few hours.

Dean parked in front of the house and they all climbed out. Sam let the dog run around the massive yard, allowing it to burn off some of its energy. The house was a two story, colonial home, with a long, wrap around porch. The freshly painted siding gleamed a soft white in the afternoon sun and the windows sparkled, showing lacy curtains inside. Cicadas droned in the summer heat and the smell of fresh ground and plants surrounded them.

Dean felt a pang of something-it wasn't longing, so his brain could shut up, thank you very much. This was the type of house that he once drew as a kid when asked to draw a picture of his home. He sighed, glancing at Sam. It didn't do to dwell on how different their life might have been if their mom hadn't died, or if their dad hadn't taken them across the country, moving every few weeks. Giving himself a mental shake, he stepped onto the wooden porch, walking past the white wicker furniture waiting there, just dying for a pitcher of sweet tea, or maybe lemonade, and the little old ladies gossiping to complete it.

The house was furnished. Dean supposed it was easier to sell if the prospective buyer could see what it looked like when someone was living there, but to him, it was too perfect, like something out of a magazine. Bright colors and patterns were everywhere and the furniture looked cozy, but not loved. Everything was sparkling clean, showroom new. It worked to their advantage, though, and he moved swiftly past the foyer, walking up the stairs. Cas stayed downstairs, investigating the rooms, but Sam followed Dean into the first bedroom off the stairs.

It was definitely supposed to be a child's room, with soft mint green walls decorated with animals and jungle scenes. The curtains were a pale yellow and had fluffy lions frolicking along the bottom of the fabric. The bed, a canopy with a filmy, gauzy fabric bunched at the top and drifting down to the carpet, continued the animal theme, with a monkey bedspread and pillows that looked like various jungle animals.

Dean smiled and picked up a sock monkey, smacking Sam with it and smirking when he got a glare in return. White furniture, a dresser, a vanity mirror, a bookshelf, completed the room, decorated with pale green accents. There were toys scattered here and there, an effect that made it look like the fake child who slept there had been interrupted during playing, maybe running downstairs to eat the fake chocolate chip cookies their fake perfect mom had baked for them.

"This is good, right?"

"It's got a night light," Sam said, pointing at the plastic monkey plugged into the electrical socket.

"And a dormer window," Dean commented. He put one knee up on the padded seat and opened the window, letting the humid summer air in. "So, we set up here, have Cas sit on the bed and let his wings loose?"

"Yeah, Boomer and I will be outside the door, waiting for the Pan to come in."

"Boomer? Jesus, Sam, you named it?"

"I can't just call him 'dog', Dean," Sam protested. "Hey, you think after this..."

He didn't finish the thought. Dean's expression was enough of an answer. With a sigh, Sam turned and left the room, heading downstairs to get the dog.

They'd brought food with them, so they didn't have to leave. They sat around the mahogany dining table, eating sandwiches off of spode china, drinking soda out of cut crystal glasses, each lost in their own thoughts.

Cas finished early; he was beginning to realize he really did like human food. He fiddled with his lace place mat, wondering if he should get up or stay. Dean coughed, and he looked up, meeting his eyes and smiling tightly.

"You, uh, want to go check out the grounds with me, Cas? Get a look at the woods?"

"I'll stay here with Boomer," Sam said, standing up and taking his plate and glass into the kitchen.

Dean rolled his eyes at the ridiculous name Sam had given the dog. He stood as well, waiting until Cas was moving, then followed him into the kitchen. They put their dishes down-Sam was already rinsing his off and took theirs without complaint.

Opening the kitchen door, he led the way outside, drawing in a deep breath. The air out here was filled with the heavy scent of flowers and the crisp smell of evergreen and pine. Birds sang in the woods, and there was a whispering of branches as the wind blew through the top of the trees, causing them to slide together.

Cas followed Dean across the small patch of grass, right up to where the trees started. The ground there was dark, loamy dirt coated with light brown needles and bits of detritus from pine cones and seeds. They walked a bit into the copse, their footfalls muffled. It was cooler here in the shadows.

"Cas, no matter what, you can't go with him."

Cas snorted, turning away from Dean and putting a hand on the bark of a particularly large tree. He closed his eyes, leaned against the wide trunk, and listened to the plant. He could feel Dean's hand on his shoulder, but he didn't move, choosing instead to speak to the tree. It was easier.

"I will, if I'm left no other choice." He sighed, clenching his hands on the bark and resting his forehead against the roughness. "I can't continue to fight and I..." He swallowed hard, gulping past a lump in his throat. "I miss my home," he finished weakly.

"Ok, I don't get missing a home because, hell, I've never really had one to miss, but Cas," Dean tugged, turning Cas around and reaching up with his other hand, gripping him by the shoulders. Cas opened his eyes. They were gleaming blue, with a sheen of tears glittering on their surface. "You can't just give yourself to him because you miss your home."

"I like humans, Dean. I like the things you do, your food, the things you make, but my home is Neverland. I can't fly here, not without danger. I miss the animals, and the other fairies, and living in the hollow."

"You could stay here, Cas. We could figure this out."

"With you?" Cas waited, barely breathing, for Dean's answer.

"Well, not really, because you're not a hunter," Dean said, letting his hands slide from Cas's shoulder and taking a step back. "But you could stay here as a human, you know, make a life."

Cas's face fell and he huffed a short laugh, stepping around Dean, headed back towards the house. "It'd have to be something very powerful to hold me here, Dean, something wonderful and amazing. And I just don't think that something is there. I have to return to Neverland."

He walked away, leaving Dean standing in the shadow of the trees.

~~*~~

Night was quiet, still. Stars glittered in the velvet darkness of the sky and a pale moon glowed, shining pearl white light onto the grounds of the house. In one window, a soft light spilled out into the night air, golden yellow, warm and welcoming. The house stood otherwise dark and silent.

In the room, Cas sat on the small bed, clutching the sock monkey in his lap. His sword lay buckled at his side, a comforting press of cold metal against his thigh. His eyes were closed but he could see the glow of his wings painted against his eyelids, a comforting blue shade. He kept his breathing even, forcing calm, when he felt anything but calm. Thoughts whirled around in a whirlpool of chaos.

Dean was attracted to him, but didn't want him, it seemed, not in a bonded way. That was painful, as he knew he did want Dean in a bonded way, and in fact, was aware the process had already begun. He truly liked Sam, wished to spend more time with both brothers, but he ached for the comforts of his home, for other fairies, for a place where he could use his magic freely. He missed flying in the worst way, wanted to feel the wind whipping past him as he raced his brothers and sisters, or teased the hawk, or dared each other to dive bomb the dragon. Even the few times they had to fight, marshaling forces to drive jungle beasts away, or pushing the mermaids away from their lagoon, those few times were starting to take on a nostalgic quality.

His ears twitched and he listened intently. Now that they were proper shape, his hearing was improved. Sam sat just outside the door, Boomer resting quietly beside him. Dean was waiting in the closet, shifting from time to time. Cas allowed a smile, Sam had explained what 'in the closet' meant and he was somewhat amused that that Dean was physically in a closet now.

Time seemed to slow down, moving at glacial speeds. There was no clock to tick, but Cas imagined he could hear the phantom noise of a crocodile hunting anyway. He shook his head slightly, trying to pull his imagination under control.

A soft chuckle escaped. If he was daydreaming so wildly, that could only mean one thing. He opened his eyes, leaning forward, eager now that something, anything, was happening.

The window creaked, swinging open widely and, yes, there was a shadow creeping in now. Cas put the stuffed monkey to the side and slipped off the bed, pulling his sword free from its scabbard and gripping it in a tight hold, his muscles tense. He balanced easily his feet, ready to engage.

“Hello, Castiel.” Euan stepped fully into the room and graced his chosen fairy with a wide smile. His dark blond hair was windswept, sticking up in all different directions and his brown eyes were lit up with the same smile that curved his lips. Anyone looking at him would say this was a happy youth, never realizing just what a dangerous creature stood before them.

Cas stared at him, coldly silent. He was still, waiting. This plan depended on everything going exactly right. He needed the Pan closer.

“Come now, Castiel, don’t be that way.” Euan moved more fully into the room, approaching Cas, holding his hands out in a beseeching manner.

Cas took a step back, lifting his sword. Just a bit farther, and Dean would strike, slamming the window shut. He knew Sam waited with his hand on the knob of the door, listening intently for Cas’s signal.

“I see. Perhaps the humans have gotten to you, then. You were always so stupidly entranced by them.” Euan regarded him coolly. “The one in the closet can come out now.”

“You didn’t really think it’s just me,” Dean said, opening the doors and stepping into the room.

“You speak of the larger human and that disgusting beast? You’ll find them chasing their tails, so to speak.” Euan laughed then, a harsh, bitter sound. “Did you honestly think this would work?” He swept his arm in a wide gesture. “You thought you’d set up this room, that I’d come in, and be startled by the beast and you’d what? Take my shadow?” He shook his head and took a step closer to Castiel. “I expected more out of you, my love. You’re supposed to be such a good soldier, brilliant at strategy.”

“I had little choice, Euan,” Cas said, lowering his sword. “I don’t want you, and you’ve taken children here. I wish for you to let them go, to let me go.”

“Hmmm.” Euan took another step; he was right in front of Cas now.

Dean, who had been moving towards the wall, hit the light switch, bathing the room in bright, white light. Euan crowed when he did, leaping up, landing on the end of the bed, and crouched, laughing. Dean felt his stomach sink. 

There was no shadow.

Dean glanced at Cas, wondering what to do now. He reached for the door, flinging it open, but Sam wasn’t there and neither was the stupid mutt.

“I told you, they’re play-ing,” the Pan said in a sing song voice. He flew up into the air, hovering next to the ceiling.

“If you’ve hurt Sam...” Dean growled, pulling his gun and pointing it at the Pan, who only snorted at him.

“He’s _old_ ,” Euan said, disgust dripping from his voice. “Like you. What ever would I want with nasty creatures such as you two?” He floated down, landing gently in front of Cas. “You’re the one I want, Castiel. Why can’t you just come play with me?”

“I need you to release the kids.” Cas was pleased his voice was so steady. He could feel Dean’s eyes resting on him, but kept his gaze locked with Euan’s.

“No. I need them. I’ve been so hungry. I’ll give you dust, Castiel. We’ll go back to Neverland and have so many grand adventures.”

“I want to go home,” Cas said softly. His mind felt strange, his thoughts cloudy and muddled. Somewhere inside he knew it was the Pan, but he couldn’t fight it, not this close to him.

“I’ll take you home,” Euan whispered. He wrapped an arm around Cas’s waist and jerked him forward, holding him tightly. “Let me in, Castiel.”

“Yes, let you in.” Castiel lifted his face, felt the soft brush of lips against his.

Euan’s magic pushed him, slipping in and winding around his own. He knew, from having seen bonds, that his light would dim slightly, change color to match what Euan wanted and once that was done, once Euan’s magic had overwhelmed his own, the bond would be complete. He sighed into the mouth that covered his. He couldn’t fight it. Why was he trying?

A horrendously loud crack sounded right next to his head and he jerked back, startled. Euan screamed, a painful, hate filled sound. Castiel watched as he lurched forward, grabbing Dean. Cas clutched at Euan, trying to pull him away from the human, but his hands scrabbled ineffectually at the Pan’s belt.

Euan struck Dean, knocking him to the ground. Red seeped into his sleeve and, while Dean lay stunned on the ground, the Pan lifted the cloth, examining the hole in his arm. He snarled at Cas, then his mouth turned up in a cruel smile.

Saluting the fairy, he bent, picked Dean up with ease--grabbing the stunned man by the ankle--and, before Cas could stop him, he flew out the window dragging Dean behind him, Dean’s head making a sickening crack against the sill. Cas ran to the window after them, barely making out the faint glow of the Pan as he streaked away into the night.

Miserable, Cas turned back to the room, frantically thinking of what he could do. He started for the door, intent on seeking Sam, but tripped over something on the floor. When he looked and saw the small, brown bag tied simply with string, he felt the first sense of hope he’d had since Euan had appeared, mocking them.


	5. Chapter 5

They were speeding through the air, the ground way too far beneath him. The Pan was screaming, moving jerkily up and down, causing Dean to cry out every time they rose and fell. Dean’s vision swam, his head ached from where it’d knocked on the wood and he felt sick. Hanging upside down as he was, he could feel the blood rushing to his head and it felt awful.

“I know what you fear, you stupid human. We always do, just ask Hook. You shouldn’t have interfered.”

Dean tried to lift up, to grab the Pan’s hand, but it stopped mid air and grinned evilly down at him.

“Think happy thoughts, Dean!”

Dean screamed as the fucking Pan flung him up, high enough that he gasped for air, and all he could do is flail as he tumbled far too fast to the ground. It was true what they say, you begin to go over your life, your regrets. He had more to do, damn it! He had to tell Sam he was proud of him. He hadn't gone to the beach yet. He needed to take Sam to Disneyland. He hadn’t told Sam goodbye, I love you. He hadn't told Cas...

Well, there was too much to tell Cas. And he hadn't admitted to himself, even, just how much he liked the fairy, how much he wanted him.

And now he would...

He was jerked out of his thoughts by a real, physical jerk. Strong arms wrapped around his upper body and a fine powder fell on him, making him sneeze. He glanced up to see Cas smiling down at him, wings beating frantically.

"You must think happy thoughts, Dean," Cas yelled, fighting against the wind to be heard. "You have to help me fly.”

Happy thoughts. He could do this. He squeezed his eyes shut and deliberately pulled up some memories. His mom’s smile. Warm apple pie. Sammy's first steps, into Dean's arms. Fireworks in a field. The first time he slipped behind Baby's wheel. His first kiss, Robin. His first kiss with Aaron. But that last memory brought to mind his father finding he and Aaron.

John was livid and Aaron scrambled out of the motel room, leaving Dean to deal with a drunk, pissed off, disgusted father. Dean flinched as he recalled what John had done, how they'd told Sam that a ghost had gotten the better of Dean, cracked his skull and almost broken his arm.

"Happy thought, Dean!" Cas screamed. "That is _not_ a happy thought!"

Dean opened his eyes and glanced down. The ground was still coming up too fast. He practically climbed onto Cas, who pulled him close, winding one arm around Dean's waist, the other sliding up so he could cradle Dean's neck with his hand.

"Happy thought," he said again and he bent his head forward.

Dean eagerly meet him in a kiss, letting the sensation of Cas's lips against his drive all thoughts of his father from his mind.

[](http://imgur.com/GcqFaXi)

They began to slow, Cas's wings still beating in a blur, but controlling their descent now. And still they kissed, mouths moving against each other's, hands tangled in each other's hair, bodies pressed together. Gently, they landed, finally pulling apart.

"Now, _that's_ a happy thought," Cas said, brushing his thumb across Dean's cheek.

Dean managed a weak smile and took a step back. He drew in a deep, steadying breath and looked around.

“Where’s Sam?”

“Coming. He gave me this,” Cas handed Dean a cell phone. “Euan made him and the dog sleep, but I used this to wake them up.” He held up the small brown bag.

“What’s that?” Dean moved forward, his eyes widening when Cas opened the bag to reveal glittering, glowing golden dust.

“I pulled it off his belt,” Cas said with satisfaction. “It’s enough dust to fuel my magic. I can fly.”

“Can you stop the bond?” Dean glanced at Cas, worried at the frown that marred his features.

“No, I still won’t be able to fight him.”

“That’s what was happening, right?” Dean rubbed his arms and looked around. He had no clue where they were, or how far they were from the house.

“His magic will take over mine,” Cas said.

“Yeah, I got that. Your wings were going from blue to orangish. Cas, where are we?”

“Close to where Euan is. I can feel the children, just over there.” He pointed to a spot further in the woods.

It was dark and cold out here, and Dean no longer had his gun. He wasn’t unarmed-he was Dean Winchester, after all-but a few knives, a garrote, and throwing stars might not be enough for this creature.

“And Sam is on his way?”

“He said he could track me, and he would get here as quickly as he could.” Cas laid a reassuring hand on Dean’s arm. “We could wait for Sam, but I don’t think we should. It would be better to take advantage of this situation. Euan knows I’ll seek out the children. He’ll assume you fell, and that I didn’t look for you in my concern for the little ones. He’ll expect me, but not you. If we wait, he might hurt the children out of anger or desire to cause pain.”

“How do I defeat him, if I can’t get his shadow?” Dean sighed. “Is there any way?”

“Peter got in sword fights all the time. He would have taken poison that Hook left for him and it would have killed him, but Tink drank it first. I think you can hurt the Pan, as long as you believe you can. That’s what it boils down to, Dean,” Cas said, gripping Dean’s bicep. “You have to believe. You love Sam, use that. You care for the children, use that as well. It will make you strong.”

Cas stepped back and drew his sword, holding it, pommel out, to Dean. Dean took it, testing the balance in his hand and swinging it a few times.

“How do I protect you?” he asked quietly, letting the sword drop by his side and holding it loosely.

Cas stepped forward again, lifting his hand. Dean stood still while Cas ran his fingers lightly over the contours of his face, stroking the curve of his cheek, scratching gently at his stubble, tracing his lips. He leaned in slowly, giving Dean time to pull away if he chose, smiling against his lips when Dean eagerly met him in a kiss.

This was so much better than what they’d shared in the air. Dean groaned and wrapped his free arm around Cas, pulling him close. Cas’s hands framed his face and they kissed deeply, little nips and nibbles, tender presses of lips, a stroke of tongues.

With a sigh, Cas stepped away and moved around Dean, walking towards the forest. He smiled when Dean caught up with him, keeping pace beside him, their shoulders brushing.

~~*~~

The forest was unnaturally quiet. There should have been noises, the wind, nocturnal animals moving about, that sort of thing, but the only sounds were their soft footfalls on the needle strewn ground.

They walked on. Dean wasn’t sure for how long; his sense of time seemed wonky. The moon moved in the sky, but not by much, and there wasn’t any lightening at the horizon, so he knew it was still in the deep of the night.

Finally, Cas stopped, his arm flying over to stop Dean. He looked around, for what, Dean couldn’t say, but whatever he was searching for, he must have found it. He lifted his finger to his lips, and Dean nodded.

They crept forward, slower now, and then, Dean could hear what Cas had obviously picked up before--children’s laughter. Moving as stealthily as he could, Dean followed Cas through the trees.

The forest thinned out slightly and there was a very small clearing that Dean could see through the firs. Children, four of them, sat ringed around the Pan, who was making lights dance in front of their delighted faces.

They couldn’t tell or didn’t care, but Dean could see a thin thread of glowing light spinning from each child, weaving through the air and winding around the Pan’s arm.

“He’s going faster now, draining them quickly,” Cas whispered.

Dean nodded, gripping the sword tighter. “Be careful, Cas.”

“I will,” Cas promised. He smiled at Dean. “No matter what happens, thank you.”

“For what?” Dean blinked in confusion, but Cas only kissed him and slipped away.

Dean crouched behind a wide trunk and watched, trusting in the plan that Cas had come up with. It took a few moments, moments that seemed to last a lifetime, before Cas emerged from the trees, approaching Euan head on.

Euan’s face lit up in a smile and he stood, walking right past the children. Without his magic supporting them, they collapsed on the ground, slumping over and lying terribly still. Dean fought the urge to go to them; they wouldn’t be truly safe until the Pan was taken care of. He had faith in what Cas had told him, that unless they were fully drained, they would recover from what the Pan had done to them.

“I knew you would come,” Euan said, walking confidently toward his fairy.

“I just want to go home.”

Dean knew it was the plan but he still felt a stab at Cas’s plaintive words. He moved swiftly but as silently as possible, circling around in a wide loop. He needed to catch the Pan unawares, from behind.

“I’ll take you home. We’ll have fun playing together. Oh, the children we’ll play with! I’ll let you pick them, so that you like who we have.” Euan had reached Cas now and he took his hand, pulling him close. “I’ll make you happy, Castiel.”

“You promise?” Cas sounded resigned.

Dean was close now. He could do this, he needed to. He believed in Sam, in helping people, in saving them. He believed in Cas. He could do this.

“Oh, yes.”

Euan leaned in, kissing Castiel. The color thing started to happen again and Dean moved faster. The orange light wrapped around Cas, but then it flared up, a brilliant flash. Dean covered his eyes with his arm, but he could still see an afterimage of red floating in the air when he lowered his arm.

“You’ve bonded!” Euan spat, shoving Cas down, glaring at him.

Cas looked up at the enraged Pan, a huge smile curving his lips, his own blue light dancing on his skin, enhanced by sparks of green brilliance. Euan snarled and struck at Cas, kicking at the fairy on the ground. He stood over him, glaring, his hands clenched into fists at his side, his chest heaving.

Cas scrambled to his feet and Dean lunged forward. He had a moment of euphoria-the plan was working-but cried out when Euan whirled, his hand flying out and gripping Dean’s wrist in a crushing hold.

Cas tried to attack. With a wave of his hand, Euan threw dust on him and, in a shocking flare of sapphire light, Cas disappeared. Dean yelled then, pulling away from Euan to where Cas had been. The Pan was stronger, though, and he squeezed Dean’s wrist, bones grinding, wrenching a cry of pain from him.

“Now, human, was that fair? Sneaking up on me? Where’s the honor of a true fight? You should meet me fairly in battle, sword to sword.” Euan considered Dean, jerking him off balance, so that he almost crashed into him.

Dean stared into those brown eyes and wondered why he’d been worried at all? Euan meant no harm. He followed when the Pan began to drag him over to the children. They were snuggled into sleeping bags now, gathered round a rousing fire. A tree house was behind them, swings and rope ladders gently swaying in the wind. And Sam was here, too, sitting in front of the fire, smiling brightly at Dean.

“Why don’t you join your brother, Dean?”

The voice whispering in his ear drove shivers down his spine, but he obeyed, because why wouldn’t he? He meant to meet Sam here, right? Dimly, the thought that something was important, something he needed to do buzzed in the back of his skull. He shoved that away and sat cross-legged next to Sam, basking in the warmth of the fire.

A firefly darted into his sight, causing his lips to curl up and his eyes to crinkle. It was beautiful, a shade of blue that seemed familiar, but Dean wasn’t sure why.

“Don’t you like this, Dean?” Euan lounged on the ground, watching him. Dean nodded, smiling back. “You can play forever. That’s what Neverland does. It lets you play forever. No worries, no cares.”

“Sam, too.” Dean’s voice was flat, slow and sluggish.

“Of course, Sam, too. We have only to ask him when the time is right. He’ll say yes, Dean. He wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

Dean nodded again, staring into the dancing flames. It was so calm, so peaceful.

He didn’t see the beast until it was running through the fire. He knew Euan didn’t see it, either, given his scream of fear. The air was suddenly freezing, the fire gone, and growling, snarling and cries filled the glenn. Dean scrambled to his feet, his mind foggy and his thoughts confused.

Sam was shouting. Why was Sam shouting? The firefly was back, dancing in front of him. He reached out, but it darted away and then flew back at him. He took a step forward, it backed up, and he took another step. Following it was easy until he stumbled over something cold and sharp on the ground. He fell down, his hand landing on whatever had tripped him.

As soon as he touched the sword, his mind cleared. Dean stood, the sword firmly in his grasp and looked around, getting his bearings. Sam grappled with Euan and the damn dog nipped at the Pan’s heels, darting in and out and barking and growling all the while.

Dean glanced around, realizing now that the firefly was Cas. He patted his shoulder and Cas landed there, small hands gripping his shirt. Dean moved swiftly towards the fight, circling around so that he was approaching Euan from the back once more.

Euan was so focused on Sam and the dog that he realized far too late that Dean was behind him. He began to turn, but Dean struck fast and true, shoving the sword into him with all his might. Euan looked down at the point just barely showing from his ribcage and stumbled back. Red blossomed on his clothes, the stain growing rapidly. A thin trickle of blood flowed down his chin and he grinned, his teeth bathed in scarlet.

“Death is the last great adventure,” he said, coughing. “I don’t wish to die.”

He crouched and sprang into the air, flying rapidly away, causing a spray of blood to rain down. Dean felt Cas leave his shoulder and stared in amazement when he began to glow brightly, that glow growing larger and larger, until the fairy stood in front of him, human sized again.

“Can he survive that?” Dean asked, searching the sky.

“If he gets to Neverland in time, yes,” Cas said, frowning.

“Great.” Well, that was something to worry about another time. Now, he had a question about something else entirely. “What did he mean you’re already bonded, Cas?”

“The kids, Dean, we need to save the kids.” Cas walked briskly towards Sam, knowing Dean would follow.

“Fine,” Dean sighed, allowing the subject change, “but how are we going to get the kids and us home?”

“Why Dean, do you really have to ask? All you need to worry about is having a happy thought.”

Dean moaned and dropped his head against his chest, ignoring Cas’s laughter. Sam came up to him and pulled him into a crushing hug, which he grumbled about, but quietly.

“You’re all right?” he asked, pushing Sam away long enough to give him a once over.

“I’m good, Dean,” Sam reassured. “Tired from running here, though. Boomer knew just where to go, and I used the GPS in the phone, but it was still a bit of a way to run. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Dean waved Sam off. “He mojo’d me but it wasn’t bad. I’m good.” He glanced at the children, lying spent on the hard ground and knelt down the closest one, to see if he was all right.

“So what’s the plan for getting everyone out of here?” Sam asked. He, too, was giving the children a look over.

“I have enough dust. If you both hold a child in each arm, I can fly us all back.”

“I’m so not ready for this,” Dean groaned.

Cas shook his head and loosed the bag from his belt. He approached the dog first, coating him with a generous amount of dust. Dean couldn’t help but laugh when Boomer’s rear end flew higher than his front end. He floated serenely for all of two seconds before realizing his tail was just there, and then he was tumbling through the air, snapping at the offending thing attached to his butt.

Thank whatever gods that the Pan had taken young, small children. It was a struggle, but with a bit of maneuvering and with Cas’s help, Dean and Sam had two little ones each, snuggled tightly against their chests, with strong arms wrapped around them. Dean closed his eyes tightly as the dust sprinkled down on him, sneezing once again. He smirked as he chose his happy thought and was rewarded by a cough and stern look from Cas. Served the fairy right for making him fly. He could deal with bit of a dirty happy thought. Cas rose into the night air, Sam following, and Dean and the mutt bringing up the rear.


	6. Chapter 6

It took most the night, but each child was safely returned to their bed. Cas was adept at making the household sleep so there were no awkward questions right then. The children would wake the next morning, tired and wiped out, but brimming with tales of amazing adventures and wild times. The parents might never find out what really happened, but the kids were home, safe and sound, and that’s what really mattered, right? At least Dean didn’t have to worry about cops getting the wrong idea this time.

They returned to the home to get the Impala, climbing wearily inside and leaving the property. The dog was taken back to the rescue, the workers never the wiser for the adventure their pooch had been on. He would be a runaway that came back, safe now. Cas spoke to him a bit, but refused to tell Sam and Dean what they spoke of, only telling Sam that the dog liked him and would miss him.

The drive to the motel was blissfully silent, broken only by a brief, intense discussion of sleeping arrangements. Cas didn’t care either way. He had used a lot of magic and even with the dust, he was drained. He stripped down to boxers and a shirt and crawled into the closest bed, falling asleep almost instantly.

The room was empty when he finally woke up. No sounds from the shower, no movement or quiet talking, just the whoosh of the air conditioner in the otherwise silent room.

He found a bag sitting at the end of the bed, and curious, he opened it. Two new pairs of jeans, a package of underwear in his size and three folded shirts were tucked inside. He smiled and, gathering his new clothes, went to take a shower.

Sam was sitting at the small table near the window when he came out, still rubbing the towel against his wet hair. He approached him, padding over on bare feet.

“So,” Sam smiled at Cas, “what’s going to happen now?”

“I don’t know,” Cas admitted, softly. “If I return to Neverland, I might run into Euan again. If it’s not him, it’ll be another Pan. I’ll be expected to follow orders and do what’s required of me.”

“Is that what you want, Cas?”

Cas shook his head at Sam’s question, biting his lip, looking everywhere but at the human. “I don’t know if I can have what I want.”

There was a moment of heavy silence. Cas took a deep breath and squared his shoulders and looked at Sam.

“Dean is waiting outside,” Sam said, smiling softly at Cas. “You’ll probably want to put shoes on, though.” He tapped the long box sitting on the table next to his laptop.

Cas lifted the lid of the box, looking inside, grinning at the sight of new sneakers. He didn’t mind borrowing Dean’s stuff, but it felt important that the brothers had taken the time to get him his own clothes. He barely dared hope that it meant what he really wanted it to mean.

Once they were on, he left the hotel room, squinting at the bright light of the midday sun. When his eyes finally adjusted, he saw Dean in the Impala, waiting. Nervously, he approached and opened the door, climbing inside.

“Thought we’d go for a drive,” Dean said, smiling tightly at him.

He nodded, afraid to say anything just yet. Dean started the car and pulled smoothly from the parking lot. For a while they just drove. Dean played music and Cas rolled his window down, letting the wind blow dry his hair. They left the town, entered farming country, and the sight of cows and horses and the occasional goat bringing a smile to Cas’s face.

Dean slowed the car, pulling over in an orchard, under the sweeping branches of some sort of fruit tree. He got out, and curious, Cas followed, walking with him through the trees.

“Would I know if we bonded?” Dean asked abruptly.

Cas glanced sharply at him, but Dean was staring at the trees, not him.

“I don’t know,” Cas answered, shrugging. “If you were a fairy, then, yes, you’d know. I’m unsure how it would work for a human.”

“But you know. Cas, have you been in my head?” Dean turned to face Cas now.

Castiel flushed and dropped his head, staring at the ground, idly noticing that his new sneakers gleamed whitely against the dark ground.

“I just helped with nightmares,” he admitted, lifting one shoulder in a slight shrug. “And,” he added, feeling his face grow even hotter, if that were possible, “I could hear you.” He glanced up at Dean, noting his blank expression and looked away, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. “In the shower. I felt what you were thinking about.”

“Damn.” Dean faced him fully, his expression blank. “Do I have a say, if we’re bonded? Can I reject it?”

”Yes,” Cas answered softly, his misery evident in his voice.

Dean turned away and Cas could feel his stomach sink. He began to apologize, could feel the ‘I’m sorry’s’ spill out, when Dean startled him.

“If this is gonna work you have got to stay out of my head, okay? Unless I invite you in.”

“This?” Cas asked, hope building, his pulse racing. Was Dean suggesting…

“Yeah, this,” Dean gestured between them, “you and me.” He moved swiftly, pulling Cas flush against him. “We’ll teach you to hunt, but you gotta listen to us and do what we say. And don’t go expecting flowery declarations of love, or no chick flick crap like that.”

“I think I can live with that,” Cas agreed. “But you have to go flying with me.”

“Yeah, not happening,” Dean said with a grin. The grin faded and he sighed. “I just don’t want you to regret not going home, Cas. I’m worried that you’ll hate me for taking that away from you.”

“I made my choice, Dean. It’s my decision to stay with you, to choose you over Neverland and my family. I could never hate you for that.”

Dean slid his arms around Cas’s waist, slipping a hand down to cup his ass. Cas twined his arms around Dean’s neck and tilted his head for a kiss. He gasped in surprise and desire when Dean pressed against him, their bodies rubbing together in delicious ways.

“The bond, is it complete?” Dean’s voice was deeper, rough against Cas’s cheek. He dragged his lips along Cas’s jaw, nipping before mouthing lower, sucking on his neck.

“It will be if you keep doing that.”

Cas shoved Dean against the trunk of the nearest tree and sank to his knees in front of him. He kept his eyes on Dean’s, holding his gaze while he undid his jeans and shoved them down, taking Dean’s boxers with them. Pressing his face into Dean’s skin, he breathed in deep, smirking against the soft skin when Dean choked slightly.

“Humans aren’t so different from fairies here,” he remarked nonchalantly, as if he weren’t using his hand to stroke the base of Dean’s cock, teasing him and enjoying it.

“Yeah?” Dean’s voice was breathless.

Cas merely hummed and licked the head of Dean’s erection. He sucked gently, teasing with little licks and nuzzling against the silky skin. When Dean slid his hands into Cas’s hair, pulling lightly, he got the hint and began to suck in earnest, taking Dean’s length fully into his mouth and using his tongue and hands to stroke. Dean’s head fell back against the trunk and he had one hand on Cas’s shoulder, one in his hair, sliding through the soft strands, occasionally pulling. His hips were thrusting forward, driving his cock into Cas’s mouth.

Cas moaned and hummed around Dean, loving every single gasp, every curse word, every broken muttering of his name. He moved one of his hands down to his own erection, popping his jeans open and stroking his cock in time to Dean’s thrusts. Dean’s movements became erratic and Cas left his erection alone for the time being, concentrating on making his lover come.

He let Dean’s cock slide from his mouth and pumped it with his hand, eyes glued to Dean’s face, cataloguing every expression that crossed that stunning visage. Dean was gasping and moaning and the exact moment he came, his mouth opened in a soundless cry, he tensed up, his hips jerking and it was the most beautiful thing Cas had ever seen.

He gently stroked Dean through until Dean shrank away, far too sensitive to continue. Dean’s eyes opened and he panted, stunned by the sight of Cas, kneeling before him, come dripping on his face and chest, his cock full and hard. He knelt down and began to lick at Cas’s face, kissing him, the salty taste mingling with the unique taste of Cas.

Cas gasped into the kiss when Dean took his cock in hand. He reached down too, and their hands moved in concert, fingers sliding together. Cas tucked his head against Dean’s neck, drinking in his loving words, letting the pleasure overwhelm him. He came with a cry, collapsing against Dean, who held him tenderly and stroked his back while he shivered.

They sat for a few moments, revelling in the simple joy of touching. Dean’s body shook, Cas realized he was laughing.

“Should have brought some wipes, you know?” Dean said, smiling at Cas, who had pulled away to stare at him.

They stood then, muscles cramping, shaky and unsteady. Dean stripped off his outer shirt and used it to clean them both off as best he could, peppering Cas with tiny kisses as he did so.

Cas wrapped his arms around his body and followed Dean back to the Impala, settling in the front seat. Dean smiled at him and slid his hand across the seat, palm up. Giving a returning smile, Cas laid his hand on Dean, twining their fingers together.

“Should we go home?” Dean asked, a hesitant tone to his voice.

“I’d like that,” Cas answered, giving him a brilliant grin and a reassuring squeeze of his hand.

The rumble of the Impala filled the glen, bouncing off the tree trunks. Cas leaned back in his seat, his hand firmly wrapped around Dean’s and smiled happily, because he’d meant what he said. He was happy to go home, to find it in Dean’s arms and Sam’s friendship. After all, growing up could be fun.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!

**Author's Note:**

> My [Tumblr](http://monkeyscomewithme.tumblr.com). Feel free to come pester me.
> 
> Thanks to all who read, comment, and kudo. Y'all rock!


End file.
